Outfitting Our Feelings
by Cygrus
Summary: Germany isn't sure what to think of Italy's maid dress, but maybe Italy can get him to say something he wouldn't usually say?


**This was a horribly difficult request from Darxetta. Since she's written fics for me, I asked her what she wanted. **

**And of course she would ask for Germany/Italy.**

**A couple I barely pay attention to.**

**Urgh, this was hard, so I made it short.**

**So enjoy.**

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><p>"What...are you wearing?" Germany stood in the doorway of Italy's room, watching the horribly strange scene unfold in front of him. Italy twirled around, the skirt of his old maid dressing billowing around him, making one of his usual strange noises.<p>

"It's my old maid dress from when I worked for Mr. Austria!" he explained, obviously not affected by the fact he was a man wearing women's clothing. "I wanted to put it on for old times sake!" Germany watched him as he twirled around once more. He would never understand Catholics.

"Italy, you know as well as I do that you're a man. So, WHY would you wear that kind of outfit?" the large man asked. Italy thought on this, then shrugged.

"I don't see a problem with it!" he chimed, lifting up the skirt and curtsying like he used to do when he was younger. "I'm just glad this outfit still fits! It brings back good memories! Then again, it also brings back memories of when Mr. Austria was really scary..." He turned back to the mirror, smiling at his reflection.

"Austria made you wear that?" Germany questioned, not sure if he could actually believe what he said.

"Yep! But he suddenly started making me wear different clothing, for some reason. I think it was after my voice changed," he told the German, twirling once again, enjoying the feeling of being in the dress once again.

"He must of been daft..." Germany muttered to himself. Italy chuckled, remembering a certain, blushing boy. "What's funny?"

"I just remember all the times Holy Rome and I had back when I was a child." Germany blinked, remembering reading about the Holy Roman Empire once before.

"You were friends with him?"

"Yeah! He could be really scary sometimes, just like you, but he was really sweet on the inside," Italy explained, putting a hand on his chest. "When he left for war, he told me he actually loved me."

"So he's your first love?" the blond man asked, remembering Italy saying something about his first love being another boy back when that disastorous date happened. Italy nodded, smiling softly at the fond memories of Holy Rome.

"He promised me he would come back someday, but he never did. Big Brother France told me died in war. I was very sad. But I had many friends there to comfort me! It still hurt though, knowing I would never see Holy Rome again." He frowned, wishing he could see the other boy again.

"I'm sorry," Germany told him, unsure of how to handle the situation. Italy blinked, realizing he had made Germany feel uncomfortable.

"It's okay, Germany. I have you now, after all!" He grinned, laughing cheerfully. Germany blushed a light pink. He coughed into his hand, mumbling something Italy couldn't make out. But he didn't question it. Germany had a habit of doing that nowadays. "So, Germany, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do I look pretty?" Italy pranced over to him, laughing. Germany's face reddenned even more. He cleared his throat and gave a small nod, which pleased the Italian. He threw his arms around the German's neck, thanking him for saying that. Germany patted Italy's back with a nod, still blushing profusely.

"Now, just get that outfit off. My brother will be here soon, and I don't want him getting ideas," he ordered. Italy pulled back, saluting the burly man.

"Yessir!" he chimed. Before Germany left though, Italy stopped him.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning around. Italy stood on his toes, giving Germany a quick kiss on the cheek. The German's blue eyes widened, surprised at the action. "What are you doing!" he yelled, though he didn't mean to. He was just a bit flustered.

"J-just kissing you on the cheek!" Italy exclaimed, now frightened by the other man's face. "Like I always do!" Germany paused, then sighed, remembering it was a normal action for the Italian. He was obviously thinking into things too much today.

"Right. Sorry. Now get changed already," he muttered. Italy smiled then, glad to see Germany back to his usual self. He began to untie the apron, making his usual unique sounds.

"Alright, Germany. I'll be ready in a minute!" he sang, taking the apron off. Germany nodded, then began to close the door, but paused.

"Uh, Italy, you, uh, you...DO look pretty, I guess," he mumbled loud enough for Italy to hear. The red head looked up, smiling.

"Thank you, Germany! Ti amo~!"

"Yeah. Ich liebe dich." With that, he quickly closed the door.


End file.
